Too Soon

 My birthplace seems to ever speak

of looming tombs, of bluest deep.

The depths below forever weep

for those cast out to sea.

My birthplace was forever now

the scene of whats and whys and hows,

and how my darling did you think,

that we could ever sink?

The water frigid, where all would lay,

hope soon to reach the gate okay.

Yet some who try to make their way

are pushing on to see today,

not be the day, that they obey,

to a God,

who doesn't want them, to stay.

The water so frigid, why didn't they listen?

In the back of the ship was a hole in the piston!

No matter your struggle, now this is your prison,

now drowning along with all of your wishes.

My birthplace is one I cannot mistake,

I guess I die because of fate.

My time was short, yet all too great.

I lived a moment, not all could say.

Ever adrift in a watery grave.

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([[It's a pregnant woman having her baby on the Titanic, a lot of people cant get it]])

([[The narrator is the baby being birfed while the ship was sinkning]])